


Something Old, Something New

by HardNoctLife



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Confessions, Engagement, Getting Together, Happily Ever After, Love, Love Confessions, Multi, OT3, Photographs, Polyamory, Romantic Fluff, ace!Noctis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 20:37:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20413948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardNoctLife/pseuds/HardNoctLife
Summary: When Noctis asks Prompto to take pictures of him and his fiancée, Princess Lunafreya of Tenebrae, Prompto reluctantly agrees in spite of the secret he's been holding onto for years--that he's harboring not one, but two major crushes (on the bride and groom, respectively).A weekend spent in Tenebrae quickly turns from a photography job into something else entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @JusticeDoesDraw on Twitter for a fic-art exchange where they requested an OT3 for Prompto/Noctis/Luna. I had never written this pairing before and wasn't sure how it would go, but I ended up falling in love with the idea and writing way more than intended! Thanks for the idea and sparking my creativity.

_**“**You may have heard people say you need "something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue" for your wedding day. But where does this rhyming wedding tradition come from, and what does it mean? It derives from the Old English rhyme, "Something Olde, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue, A Sixpence in your Shoe"—which names the four good-luck objects (plus a sixpence to bring prosperity) a bride should include somewhere in her wedding outfit or carry with her on her wedding day.”_

* * *

“Wait—_what_?” Prompto looks up from where he is scrolling through his phone, one fry dangling out of the corner of his mouth. Noctis leans forward, placing his elbows on the diner counter, and laughs.

“You, me, Tenebrae—wedding photos. That cool?”

“Woah, woah, hold up.” Prompto racks his brain, wishing he had an instant replay of the conversation that he had only been half-listening to. Like, Noctis has been talking about his engagement to Princess Lunafreya for _years _now, so he can hardly blame him for tuning out the wedding talk. It was one of those things that was just a part their lives—like death and taxes. Prompto had been surprised when he first learned about the arranged marriage when they were in high school, but as time went on he had honestly forgotten it was even a thing. It was always a distant possibility and not a reality—until it suddenly is. 

They aren’t kids anymore—newly twenty years old—and that means Noctis, _Prince_ of Lucis, is going to be a hubby, sooner rather than later.

_Weird! _

“Run that by me again,” Prompto pleads, pressing his hands together to beg forgiveness as his surly friend rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Can _you_, Prompto Argentum, take wedding photos for me and Luna this weekend?”

_Huh…_ Prompto processes the request slower than usual as Noctis blinks pointedly. The reply is just as delayed.

“Wait, WHAT?”

Noctis slaps a hand over his face and sighs again, louder this time.

“Wee—woo—wee—woo!” Prompto places his arms in the shape of an ‘X’ as Noctis’s eyebrows furrow.

“What the hell is that noise supposed to be?”

“Ya know, like a backing-up alarm on a truck?” Prompto is shaking his head adamantly. The prince fixes him with a deadpan stare.

“Prom, that’s the sound of an ambulance.”

_That works too, because I might as well be dying,_ Prompto thinks, but there’s no way he’s gonna admit it out loud.

“Okay, anyway, there’s no _way_ I can do that for you. I mean, I’m flattered, but don’t you want a professional to do it? Like, someone from _Insomnia NOW_ or something? That’s a big deal, dude!” Prompto is nervous, his knee bouncing, and it takes everything in Noctis not to reach over and hold it down as it causes the chain hanging from the blond’s beltloop to rattle.

“Why would I want some random person to take them? You’re my closest friend—_and_ your photos are pretty good,” Noctis insists. Prompto feels a little flutter in his stomach at the compliment, but shrugs it off as a natural side effect of his anxiety.

“What does Luna think?” Prompto wonders.

“She’s all for it, actually. Said she has wanted to see you again since you two met in person last year,” Noctis answers smoothly. He fights back a smirk when Prompto goes bug-eyed in disbelief.

“For real? You’re not just messing with me?”

“Would I do that?”

_Yes. You would._

Prompto pouts silently, kicking his legs from where they dangle on the bar stool. Noctis wraps an arm around his friend’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Come on, just consider it a wedding present if it makes you feel better. Besides, I don’t want to go alone.” The weight of Noctis’s body as it leans into Prompto warms the blond and makes his freckled face flush slightly. He looks down at his hands and tries to ignore how nice the prince’s cologne smells, the scent made stronger with proximity. Noctis shakes him a little, still waiting for an answer. “Please?” he pleads, murmuring into Prompto’s ear in a way that makes his friend shiver.

“All right, all right, I’ll do it,” Prompto agrees, shrugging out of Noctis’s hold. The prince grins, then snatches a handful of fries from off of his friend’s plate.

“Thanks, Prompto. You’re the best.”

Prompto forces a smile, the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach intensifying.

* * *

“Someone will get that for you,” Noctis laughs, watching as Prompto fights to get the luggage down from the overhead compartment.

“No chance! All my camera equipment is in here,” Prompto huffs, nearly toppling backwards as the parcel finally slides free of the shelf. The prince steps forward, hands reaching out to steady his friend and catch the suitcase, chest bumping into Prompto’s back in the process. “Thanks!” Prompto squeaks, immediately turning to set his things down with a _thud_.

“Do you want help with—”

“Nah! I got it,” Prompto insists, chuckling nervously. He can feel the blood rushing into his face and looks away when Noctis cocks his head to the side in question.

“Suit yourself.” The prince shrugs, turning to walk out of the passenger car and into the hallway. Inhaling deeply before blowing the air out slow, Prompto takes a second to peer out the window and onto the platform of the train station, the Tenebraean palace looming in the distance. He has never visited Luna’s home before, but he has heard plenty about it. He finds himself momentarily lost in thought, thinking back to a small dog he once nursed back to health during middle school, and to the neat handwriting of the letters he still keeps stashed in his desk drawer in his modest apartment.

“Prompto, you coming?” he hears Noctis call. 

“Be right there, buddy!” the young man answers. He yanks up on the handle of his luggage, pulling it behind him, wheels whirring nearly as fast as his heartbeat.

* * *

Prompto isn’t sure how to stand. Or what to do with his hands. He looks over at Noctis as they wait in the circular room, the skylight overhead pouring bright fall sunshine down onto the marbled floor. The prince looks relaxed, hands at his sides, the epitome of cool. Prompto doesn’t even attempt to emulate him, and decides to shove his hands into the back pockets of his jeans when the doors across from them swing open. It seems safest.

Two women Prompto doesn’t recognize enter first, one striking in appearance with long dark hair that swings at her waist and lavish dress in a traditional style, the other older and more modest, clothing suggesting she is most likely a servant. The young men are able to glimpse Princess Lunafreya over her attendants’ shoulders, and Noctis immediately straightens, smiling softly. Prompto tries to smile too, but thinks it probably looks more like a grimace and lets his face relax instead.

“Noct,” Luna breathes in greeting once she is only a few feet away. The princess’s two companions step aside, allowing her to come forward, and she enfolds the prince in an embrace that has Prompto looking away sheepishly.

_Dude, it’s just a hug_, he reminds himself, but Prompto is painfully reminded of how much of a third wheel he is in this situation and wonders if it’s too late to back out of his promise.

“Prompto,” Luna says next. Before Prompto realizes what is happening, the princess is hugging him too—and it’s a _good_ hug, not one of those _oh we’re gonna pretend to hug because we have to _hugs—no, this is a full-on, chest-to-chest, pull-you-in-tight, _damn I can smell the flowers in your hair_ hugs.

Prompto practically melts, wishing he could disappear. Then, Luna gives him a peck on the cheek and pulls back, beaming, and his mouth is hanging open, gaping like a fish out of water.

Noctis nudges him.

“Hi!” Prompto squeaks, and he is mortified when his voice breaks. Luna giggles, solidifying his horror and making it palpable, sweat beading on his forehead.

“You remember Prompto,” Noctis jokes, clearly taking pleasure in his friend’s epic embarrassment.

“How could I forget?” Luna takes Prompto’s clammy hands in her smooth, cool ones. He nearly jerks them away, but figures it would be ruder, so he just stands frozen, praying that Ramuh strikes him with a lightning bolt to prematurely end his suffering.

No such luck.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to come this weekend. Both Noctis and I are grateful to have you here.”

“No problem-o, Your Highness—I mean, you’re _welcome_, not that it’s a problem! I would never want you to think that. Although I should be the one thanking _you_. I’m not a professional or anything, so I’m sorry if the photos suck—I promise I’ll try _really_ hard though, so they _shouldn’t_, but I’m just saying—” Prompto is late in realizing he is rambling, and he looks between Noctis and Luna as he clamps his mouth shut, surprised to see them both making the same amused expression, smiling, eyebrows raised. The only difference is that Luna looks genuinely charmed, while Noctis looks like he might use this moment to blackmail him later.

_Sigh._ _Way to go, Prompto. _

“So, uh, what did you two have in mind for these pictures? It might help me figure out what you want to do,” Prompto explains, to which Luna nods.

“Of course. I was hoping you might be able to photograph us individually, then together. Naturally, we can space out the sessions for your convenience since we have the entire weekend, and the House of Tenebrae will compensate you for your time.”

“Oh!” Prompto’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing into his mop of hair. “No way, you can’t pay me!” Prompto pulls his hands from hers and waves them adamantly as if to shoo her suggestion away.

“No, I insist,” Luna is firm, exercising her royal authority, and Prompto bites down on his lip, chewing nervously. When he reluctantly nods, her smile returns, and Prompto thinks that he sees the room brighten. Then again, it could just be his imagination. “Wonderful. Shall we discuss this more over dinner?” She hooks her arms in each of the men’s elbows, steering them in the direction from which she came.

They’re hopelessly pulled into her orbit, captivated.

As she sweeps them down the hall, Prompto begins to wonder if he has gotten himself in over his head.

* * *

“This is _huge_!” Prompto swears he can hear his voice echo as he flops onto the king-sized bed. “This is a _guest_ room?” Noctis sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking beneath his weight.

“Yep.”

“I seriously don’t get how you live like this. There’s so much _space_. Don’t you get…what’s the opposite of claustrophobic?” The blond props himself up on one elbow. He’s in a faded t-shirt with a chocobo on the front and boxers, relieved to be out of his nicer clothes (if you can call skinny jeans and a button up ‘nice,’ which he _does_).

“Uhh…” Noctis thinks. “I could text Ignis and ask.” He’s already whipping out his phone, and Prompto looks past him to survey the room’s ornate furniture and large windows, which are currently obstructed by thick curtains. His eyes fall on a vase of sylleblossoms on a nearby dresser, and his throat constricts unexpectedly, bringing to mind memories he has worked hard to suppress—words he has read out loud to himself in the dark of night, the only secret he has never told to a single soul, not even his best friend.

When Noctis finally speaks, Prompto jumps a little, jolted out of his thoughts. “Agoraphobia!” The prince holds up the screen to him, and Prompto pretends to read it.

“Right. That.”

“I don’t know, guess I’m just used to it.” Noctis shrugs, then moves on without skipping a beat. “So tomorrow morning you’re photographing Luna, and then in the evening you’ll work with me. Sure you’re cool with that?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Prompto agrees with more confidence than he feels. Noctis nods, getting up.

“All right then. Night, Prom.” Noctis reaches to ruffle his friend’s hair, looking like he might say something else. Prompto nuzzles into the friendly touch, then stops, looking guilty. Luckily, Noctis is too caught up in his own thoughts to notice, and Prompto looks away before he has a chance to catch up.

“Night, Noct.”

Noctis mutters something else, but it’s unintelligible, and Prompto isn’t about to ask for him to repeat it. He watches as the Prince of Lucis stalks off, the door shutting lightly behind him. Prompto rolls onto his back once he’s gone and stares at the rich-colored canopy overhead, groaning as he throws his arms over his face.

That unsettled feeling that started as a stone in the pit of his stomach in Insomnia is now a boulder pressing against every internal organ, threatening to suffocate him.

* * *

When Prompto meets with the princess the next morning, it’s with a cup of coffee in hand, filled to the brim from the carafe that the maid brought with his breakfast. He hasn’t slept a wink and he’s trying valiantly to mask it.

Usually, he likes his coffee with sugar and milk—_Six_, closer to tan in color than black—but today he is downing the dark-as-night liquid like it’s a potion saving him from near death. He has just taken a big gulp, making a face, when Luna enters the room. When the man turns, he immediately inhales the burning beverage and sputters, coughing violently.

Princess Lunafreya’s eyes grow wide, further accenting the pale skin that he can glimpse within her plunging neckline, azure floor-length dress hugging her like a glove. 

“I apologize if I startled you—”

Prompto holds up one finger, wheezing as he tries to catch his breath.

“It’s—fine—"

It certainly is _not_ fine. Prompto has never seen a girl dressed like _that_—all silk and lace and _shapes_, not a single hair out of place, blue eyes like ice and fire at the same time_. _Not up close, anyway, and not outside the confines of a dark room and a computer screen. It should be a _crime_ to look that good. Then again, she _is _the princess, so that means she’s the judge and jury, right? She makes her own rules and everyone else has to follow them. Prompto imagines he is breaking the law somehow.

_Throw me in prison, Astrals, I have sinned. _

In any case, Prompto swallows hard, now fully awake—no caffeine required.

“Do you think this looks all right?” she wonders, and when she runs a hand along her hourglass figure, Prompto bites down to keep any sound from escaping. The princess is looking at him, hopeful and expectant.

_Quick—say something nice! _

“Great.”

_Better than that!_

“Really great.”

_UGH._

He almost covers his face with his hands, but manages to catch himself—barely.

Luna smiles, a little shy, and Prompto begins to laugh nervously, his only defense mechanism for a situation like this.

“It’s not…too much?” she frowns, glancing down at her cleavage. Prompto stares into his coffee as if he will find the answer there, not trusting his face not to betray him. 

“No, no, it’s perfect. Just enough—Noct will _love _it.”

“I hope so,” she admits, and Prompto catches a glimpse of something familiar in the princess as she drops her gaze, hands clasping in front of her.

_Oh. She’s nervous too._ It’s a strange revelation, and it reminds Prompto that although she is royalty—and the Oracle—she’s also human. It makes him feel a little better, and his shoulders relax.

“I’m sure he will.” He’s confident now, and when Luna’s head lifts, her smile stretches from ear-to-ear, warming him.

_Oof. Wow._ _People would go to war for that smile._

Prompto shakes his head, surprised at himself, and quickly changes the subject of his internal dialogue. Luna is none the wiser, or so he hopes.

“So! You wanna show me that field you mentioned last night?”

“I would love to,” she agrees, still beaming. Without too much thought, Prompto offers her his arm. The princess accepts it without hesitation. His free hand grabs the camera bag at his feet, slinging it over one shoulder with care, and the fabric of Luna’s dress swishes as they begin to walk, their chatter filling the hall as natural as bird’s song.

* * *

When Prompto and Luna round the path lined with trees and crest over the hill, Prompto stops in his tracks, breath carried away on the wind.

The field of sylleblossoms seems to stretch endlessly, the edge of the cliff they are growing on giving the illusion that they run directly into the sky. With the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon, it’s a magical scene, and Prompto is already creating compositions in his head, creativity stirring.

“Oh. Em. Gee.” Prompto runs forward and turns in a circle, jaw slack in amazement. Meanwhile, Luna laughs, absorbing his childlike wonder from afar. “Oh yeah, I can work with this!” He immediately sets his bag down to start pulling out his equipment, more excited now that he has a job to do. Luna stands nearby as he sets up, statuesque and unhurried.

“Okay, come over here,” he eventually urges, angling her with his hands when she moves to obey. “All right, just look to your left—yep. Now relax your shoulders, Your Highness—great.” Prompto backpedals until he’s at the right distance, the sunlight glaring perfectly behind the princess and making her hair shine golden.

“Luna,” she corrects gently. “We’ve known each other long enough, Prompto.”

Prompto peeks from behind the camera in his hands, face half hidden. Luna is still looking in the direction he told her to, and he’s grateful, because it means she misses the way his cheeks turn bright red. 

“Yeah, but _still_.” He snaps a couple shots, pretending to be busy so he can think, heart skipping wildly. Prompto cannot stand still, making large revolutions to find the ideal backdrop. It’s easy to take good photographs when your model is so beautiful.

He’s crouching a few feet away, flowers filling the edge of the frame as he zooms in on her face when she speaks next.

“I feel like I’ve known you my entire life. Through our written exchanges, and now through Noctis. Please, let us not stand on ceremony,” she pleads. Prompto’s hand trembles, making the next picture come out blurry. He takes it again. It’s no better than the first, so he moves on. 

“Okay, sure. Um, if you wouldn’t mind sitting with your legs tucked under you. Don’t worry about smiling just yet, just do what’s natural.” He watches as she settles among the flowers, tucking her dress beneath her, as pretty as a painting. “Pull your shoulders back and look over one—yeah, ooh, that’s nice. Tilt your head just—right there.”

“I was actually a bit saddened when our correspondence came to an end.” _Click-click._ “Did you not receive my messages?” _Click-click. _“If I said anything to offend you…”

“No.” The single quiet word from Prompto makes the princess trail off, chin lifting in surprise.

The man puts the camera down. He can’t hold it steady. When Luna’s eyes pan over to his, it’s like they are seeing straight through him, and he’s afraid the princess will discover what he has fought to hide for years, the secret that lives locked away in his heart. The one thing he can never tell Noctis because it concerns him—and his fiancée. When the princess gets to her feet, it’s like she is transcending to a higher plane, and he, a mere mortal, doesn’t stand a chance. 

Luna makes her way towards him, and Prompto is an animal caught between the instinct to fight or flee. He ends up doing neither.

“Prompto…please tell me. The question has kept me up countless nights. Hurting you is unforgiveable.” Her hand on his face burns, but he doesn’t pull away. How can he? Luna’s gravity is inescapable. Prompto leans into her touch, gasping for air and finding none.

“You’re—you and Noct.” He can’t articulate it, but they both know what he means. When he closes his eyes, he can see every letter she ever wrote him in a neat stack, bound with twine tied in a bow. His chest pulls tight. “I couldn’t do it anymore.” Admitting it hurts, but it’s also a relief.

_I fell in love with you. _

His eyes flutter open in time to see her mouth nearing his, lips pursed. It doesn’t register that she is kissing him at first. There is no universe in which this should happen—_ever_. The princess marries the prince, and they live happily ever after. That’s how every story goes. It’s not, ‘princess marries the prince’s best friend.’

The kiss is sweet, and _soft_, and everything he wants, but knows he can never have. Then it dawns on him that he is lip-locked with Princess Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae, Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum’s future wife, and Prompto ends up jerking back so fast that he trips, his tailbone absorbing the brunt of the fall.

He sputters, but no words come out, only incomprehensible sounds. Luna reaches out for him, and the man scrambles back in a frenzy. She might as well be a daemon set on devouring him. He sees a series of emotions pass over her face, flashing by faster than the framerate of his high-speed camera.

_Sadness—shame—anger—regret. _

Prompto is running before she can take another step, her voice like gunfire tearing through his heart.

“Prompto, _please_, wait!”

Despite her pleading, he doesn’t stop, and he doesn’t look back.

The photographer runs at a dizzying speed all the way back to his room, ignoring the perplexed stares of onlookers as he rushes past. When Prompto eventually makes it back to his bedchamber, he slams the door with a _bang_, sliding against it until his aching backside comes into contact with the cold marble. Squeezing his eyes shut, he throws his head back, knocking it into the sturdy wood.

“Gods, let this be a terrible dream. Please, please, please.” He squints an eye open a moment later to find the same lavish scenery and sighs, acknowledging that he is, in fact, awake. The boulder inside his abdomen is now grinding against his ribcage painfully, and he puts his head between his knees, afraid he might vomit.

For the first time since Prompto can remember, he prays—hoping for a way to dig his way out of the deep, deep shit he has found himself in.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto is still hiding in his room when Noctis comes calling in the afternoon. The blond’s tiredness has been overshadowed by the gnawing anxiety wreaking havoc on his insides, preventing him from napping or eating. Really, from doing anything remotely productive. There is a knock, then Noctis opens the door, peering in to where Prompto is lying on his back, staring up blankly at nothing.

“Prom? You ready to go?”

The prince’s best friend turns his head, blinking slowly. Noctis is standing in the doorway wearing a suit tailored perfectly to his frame, one shade lighter than jet black, with a golden vest and embroidered tie. His suit jacket is slung carelessly over his shoulder, but it somehow looks intentional.

_Like a freaking model, and he doesn’t even know it. _Prompto is appalled, but too exhausted to react, which is a blessing in and of itself.

Prompto feels heat stirring uninvited inside him when Noctis steps further into the room, and he has to take a deep breath to calm the nausea that results. _What’s wrong with me?_ he wonders. The blond presses himself into a sitting position, uneasy.

“Eos to Prompto?” Noctis waves a hand in front of his face, grinning. “Like what you see?” He does a quick turn and Prompto gulps.

“It looks good.” It’s easier to be honest with Noctis—he’s had more practice with the prince—but the exchange echoes the one he had with Luna that morning, and Prompto goes quiet, guilt overwhelming him.

“Well, come on, you’re going to make good look great.” Noctis is hoisting his friend up by the elbow, and soon they are heading back into the world, the sun already making its descent when they walk outside. There is no sign or mention of Luna, and although Prompto is curious, he’s too afraid to ask the prince if he has spoken to her. He assumes not, otherwise they would be probably be having a very different conversation about now.

Usually Prompto is chatty whenever he is around Noctis, but he bites his tongue, too afraid to speak. The silence is awkward. Soon, Prompto is sweating from nerves, and he clings to his camera bag like a lifeline, floundering in the stormy seas of his emotions.

Noctis leads him down a path Prompto walked earlier that day, and for a moment he fears they’re going to the sylleblossom field, but they veer off before reaching it, taking the trail into a forest and away from the palace grounds.

“So, how did it go this morning?” Noctis eventually asks. Prompto almost falls, foot hitting a root when his eyes snap over to his friend, tensing. Noctis laughs when Prompto manages to catch himself. “Not allowed to tell me, huh? I get it.”

The silence returns, heavier now. Prompto can hardly stand it, and he searches for _something_ to fill it with.

It’s a shock to the system when Noctis reaches over to grab Prompto’s hand.

“What—what are you—?” Prompto can’t finish the question.

They both stop suddenly, and Noctis faces the blond full on, eyebrows knitting into a frown.

“Dude, you’re fidgety as hell. I told you this isn’t anything to stress over, remember?”

Prompto wants to say something, but all he can do is search the prince’s face helplessly, tears pricking hot at the corners of his eyes even as he tries to hold them back. Noctis looks like it was the last thing he was expecting to see, and there is a moment of comedic panic as both of them look away, free hands grabbing the backs of their necks in unison. 

“Look, Prompto…” Noctis pulls air into his lungs, pausing in a way that strikes terror into Prompto’s heart. The prince’s lips make a thin line, and the suspense is too much for the photographer as he finally breaks, interrupting in a rush.

“IkissedLunadudeI’msosorryIdidn’tmeanitbutIhadtotellyouandifyoudon’twanttobemyfriendanymoreItotallygetitand—”

Alarmed by the sudden outburst, Noctis grabs Prompto firmly by the shoulders, shaking him. “Woah, woah, slow down!” Prompto starts to cry, and his friend’s expression rapidly transforms from concerned to horrified.

“I’m—sorry—” Prompto blubbers hysterically. “Luna and I—we _kissed_—and I didn’t mean it, but it happened—and I—I—”

“Shh, shh, calm down,” Noctis begs, fingers curling into the muscle of his friend’s shoulder. For a moment the only sound is Prompto’s alternating sniffles and sobs. “You—you gotta hate me—” Prompto shakes off Noctis’s hands, pressing the backs of his own against his eyes in an attempt to soothe the pounding behind them.

“Who says?” the prince scoffs, taking a single step back, hip popping out as one hand comes to rest on his in defiance.

The question throws Prompto for a loop, and he hiccups, face scrunching in thought. “I…_kissed_ her…?” he repeats. It seems like an obvious explanation, but Noctis just laughs like he always does.

In layman’s terms, it can be interpreted as: _you idiot_.

“I could never hate you Prompto. Besides, Luna’s had a crush on you for years—since you helped save her dog Pryna.”

Noctis’s words are casual, spoken as if he had said something along the lines of: _yo Prompto, want to go to the arcade together later? _or, _man, the weather is great, we should go fishing!_

But the tone doesn’t match the message, and Prompto _feels_ his brain blue-screen, like, full on system _crash_. He doesn’t blush, he doesn’t gape, no—he doesn’t even swoon. But he does stare, burning holes into Noctis’s skull with new intensity.

The prince grimaces, chuckling apologetically. “Sorry, she told me all about it. And… about your crush on me.”

Prompto’s system is beginning to reboot, a little loading icon swirling as he leans forward a little to place hands on knees, afraid his legs might give out from under him if he doesn’t.

“Come again?” the blond asks. The prince sighs.

“I wanted to tell you, there was just never a good time. Guess Luna got tired of waiting.” For once, Noctis is the one who looks nervous, shifting from side-to-side, Prompto’s typical MO. The parallel drawn between the prince and his fiancée would have made Prompto laugh if not for the circumstances. “I mean, we’ve been promised to each other since we were little, but that doesn’t mean we are attracted to each other.” Prompto watches his friend spread his hands as if trying to grasp the words he is searching for. “When she told me she liked you, it was actually kind of a relief—because I like you too, but I don’t think I can give her what she wants.”

Prompto laughs—short and low at first. After a second he laughs again, louder and longer in spite of his friend’s obvious dismay. It continues until the blond is nearly rolling, sides aching, lungs burning.

Noctis’s teeth clench, hands shoving into his pockets. “It’s not funny!” he insists in exasperation, but Prompto can’t stop now that he has started, and soon he’s on his knees, hands pressed in the dirt.

“You’re kidding! Where’s the camera? You have gotta be messing with me!” the blond insists through wheezing breaths.

“You think I’d joke about this?” The tone is sharp and hard, and it cuts the mirth straight out of Prompto’s chest. When the prince’s friend lifts his head, his sky colored eyes go wide. Noctis’s arms are folding over his chest, defensive. “I’ve liked you since high school, but not—not like _that_. Listen, you’re the only one I can trust with this other than Luna, but it’s still hard for me to say.”

Prompto sits up more now to watch the dark-haired man, curiosity outweighing his disbelief and trepidation. Noctis huffs a little, looking away again, face flushing.

“I’m not…attracted to her. To you. To _anyone_. Get it?” Prompto _doesn’t_ get it, not at first, but he tries.

“Oh…have you told your dad? Maybe he can call off the wedding—”

“No!” Noctis is more than a little exasperated, and Prompto has never seen his friend lose his cool so fast. “I _love_ Luna—and I love you too, idiot.” Prompto inhales with enough force that he gets a little dizzy, and Noctis continues. “I just don’t think I’ll ever _want_ either of you. Physically.”

A little lightbulb goes off, and Prompto begins to nod, slow at first, then more firmly. There’s only one answer that comes to mind.

“Dude, that’s cool. You know I support you, no matter what. That’s what best friends are for.” He’s not as crushed as he thought he might be, strangely enough. And maybe it’s because he doesn’t _need_ Noctis to return his affections—not like _that_—so long as he stays by his side.

The sense of relief is immediate, Noctis’s shoulders sagging as if a huge weight is removed from them. He kneels down in front of Prompto so they are on eye level, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

“I know I should have told you sooner, but…I was sort of afraid you wouldn’t want to be around me anymore. Especially since you…well, _like_ me.”

_Oh—right._

Prompto’s system has undergone a full reboot now—updates installed—and his face burns with the blush that turns his skin cherry red. Noctis’s resulting grin doesn’t help.

“You jerk,” Prompto groans, punching Noctis’s shoulder without any power behind it. “You could have told me.”

“Like you could have told me about Luna?” Noctis’s eyebrow raises, and Prompto knows he has a point. “No more secrets between us, okay?” The prince offers a hand, and Prompto takes it, the two getting to their feet. This time, both of them are smiling.

“So, uh, you still want me to take those wedding photos?” Prompto asks sheepishly.

Noctis’s eye roll is answer enough, but he adds for good measure: “Of course. Can we go now?” Prompto is more than happy to leave the entire situation behind them, and after Noctis brushes the dirt off his pants, they do, the silence no longer uncomfortable.

By the time they reach the clearing with an abandoned structure, a new question surfaces from the depths of Prompto’s insecurities, but now he knows better than to keep it bottled up. As he bends down to pull the camera from its bag, he works up the courage to ask it.

“Hey, Noct. If you aren’t attracted to Luna, why are you two still getting married? I get that you two are friends and royalty and all, but won’t that be lonely? For _both _of you guys?”

Noctis shakes his head slightly, leaning against a crumbling stone wall of what looks to be an old temple. Prompto snaps a couple pictures while he talks, the sunlight filtering perfectly through the trees across the prince’s face.

“We’ve talked about it—even thought about calling it off a few times, but it’s probably better for both of our kingdoms that we don’t. I thought about maybe letting her date other people, privately, you know? But that could get messy if she ends up trusting the wrong person.”

“Mmhm, I bet.” Prompto’s answer is more just to show that he is listening. All this talk is _way_ over his head. “Ooh, hey, put your arm up for a second.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah—now sling your jacket over—perfect, now look towards me. _Yes_, there!” The camera shutter snaps furiously, and Prompto bobs and weaves like a drunken man as he approaches his subject from various angles.

“Anyway.” Noctis does a couple more poses, years of experience allowing him to follow Prompto’s crazed hand movements without talking. “Then she told me about you, and everything just sorta fell into place.”

“Uh-huh.” Prompto misses Noctis’s expectant look while he is thinking of how best to place him in relation to the background. He has an idea, and raises a finger excitedly. “Noct, you think you could lay in the grass and loosen your tie?”

Exhaling slow to curb his frustration, Noctis nods. “Sure.” Rolling onto his back effortlessly, the prince throws his jacket aside while pulling at the fabric around his neck.

“Cool, now unbutton your vest and hold the tie with that hand—” Prompto leans forward, grabbing Noctis’s free hand to place above his head, blades of grass rustling. “Okay, smile a little—oh _man_.” Prompto straightens, zooming in on Noctis’s face with glee.

“Like I was saying—”

“Wait, wait, don’t talk.”

Noctis shuts his mouth. The prince waits as long as is polite while his best friend fusses with his camera before continuing, talking over Prompto’s.

“Luna and I were thinking, if wasn’t too weird for you—”

“Y’know, these might actually turn out pretty good—”

“—since you already joined the Crownsguard—”

“—I might actually be a decent photographer after all—”

“—you could move in with us after the wedding.”

“—but it’s probably more to do with you than…”

Prompto drops his camera when he catches the end of Noctis’s proposal. Reacting on pure instinct, Noctis snatches it out of the air, saving it from colliding with his face. The blond’s hands are still positioned as if they are holding it, lips forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise.

Hurrying to sit up, Noctis sets the camera aside, grabbing Prompto by his wrists before the blond is able to retreat.

“Don’t panic,” the dark-haired man urges.

“I’m not panicking! Why would you think that? Totally _not_ panicking.” Prompto’s voice has risen two octaves. Noctis rolls his neck, groaning.

“You definitely are.”

_Busted._ Prompto makes a face at the blatant call-out, but he lets himself be tugged to the ground, flopping next to the prince so they are side-by-side. The sky is just beginning to darken, and a bird calls forlornly in the distance. They can hear each other’s gentle breaths, chests rising and falling. 

“You like us, we like you. You’re one of my royal retainers. It just makes sense, you know? It _works_.” To Noctis, it is as simple as that, but Prompto’s mind is running a mile-a-minute, thinking of every what-if scenario.

“What if someone finds out?” It’s barely a whisper. Noctis responds instantly.

“I’ll handle it.”

“And when they want you to have little-Nocts and little-Lunas?”

“There are other ways to have kids that don’t involve sex,” the prince insists stubbornly.

“What if you change your mind? Or if you suddenly develop an attraction to—to _someone_?”

“Then we communicate. It won’t change my love for both of you.” Prompto bites at one of his nails as he thinks, a bad habit that he has yet to break. Noctis laces their fingers seconds later, pulling the hand down to nestle between them. “What are you so afraid of?” Noctis asks. There is no judgement in his tone, and it makes Prompto dare to hope, envisioning a future where he wakes up every day next to the two people who mean the most to him.

_It’s too good to be true_, he thinks.

“What am I afraid of?” Prompto’s laugh doesn’t hold any joy. “I’m afraid you’ll get tired of me. That I won’t be enough. I’m a nobody, Noct. Not royalty, not particularly good at anything—you’re way too good for me.” He looks over to where Noctis’s head is already turned in his direction, and Prompto’s breath catches in his throat.

Noctis’s storm-cloud eyes hold the twilight, warm like Sunday morning. “You’ve always been good enough for me.” Without ceremony, the prince inches a little closer, Prompto still holding his breath, and plants a kiss on the blond’s forehead. A tingling sensation crawls down Prompto’s spine, and instead of the embarrassment he expects to feel, he is deliriously, utterly _happy_.

The feeling remains even when Noctis lets their foreheads touch and they lie still, absorbing one another’s body heat.

“Please say yes?”

It sounds like a marriage proposal, and Prompto is about to say so, but the words die before they ever leave his mouth, too sacred and too special to be just another joke. Mustering all his poise, Prompto puts on a brave face, serious as the grave.

Blue eyes blink into gray as Prompto murmurs: “Yes.”

Noctis smiles so big that his cheeks ache, and Prompto can’t help but do the same, the giddiness contagious. When Noctis kisses him again—on the lips this time—it’s just as soft and sweet as Luna’s. Prompto’s first instinct is to laugh again to mask his uncertainty once they pull apart, but Noctis is looking more skittish than a chocobo being stalked by a behemoth so he does his best to look as pleased as he feels.

“That’s okay, right?”

“More than okay,” Prompto confirms.

_You made good, great. _

“Awesome. Then…we should probably finish this, huh?” Noctis says. He shows his teeth, bashful. 

“Yep, we gotta impress Her Highness!” Prompto hops up with a renewed energy, scooping up the camera. Noctis follows his example, retrieving his jacket and fixing his clothes.

“Oh, I think she’s going to be impressed all right.” Noctis’s words are light and airy, dispelling the last of the anxiety that had been pooling in Prompto’s belly.

Despite the darkness closing in, the world seems a little brighter, and the two men laugh and banter playfully throughout the remainder of the photoshoot until the night forces them back towards the palace—hand-in-hand.

* * *

It isn’t until they return to the palace that Prompto is reminded of one very important thing.

“Oh _no_.” His already pale face turns whiter as he comes to an abrupt halt. Noctis turns, questioning, and Prompto elicits a groan. “I just _left_ Luna there! She must think I hate her.”

“She _did_ cry when she told me.” It’s maybe a little cruel, but now that everything is out in the open, Noctis feels some teasing is warranted. Prompto flails at the news, and for a second Noctis thinks the photographer might collapse where he stands, so the prince moves to wrap a firm arm around his waist, keeping Prompto upright.

“Easy, buddy. It’s going to be fine.” It takes some extensive reassuring and a few more kisses before Prompto’s face regains its usual pallor, and once he recovers, Noctis drags his best friend to where Luna is waiting in her room.

Noctis is announced by the guard at the door, and the two are allowed to enter unaccompanied after a gentle voice calls out.

“Come in.”

Prompto hesitates when Noctis strolls in confidently, and the prince turns to wave at him to follow. Somehow, the blond is _more_ nervous now that he knows the truth, which is a strange stroke of irony considering how long he has been pining for _exactly_ this.

Noctis’s easy smile is a lasso that draws Prompto further into the bedchamber, and he allows it to guide him all the way to where Luna is seated in front of a window, hands folded in her lap. She is no longer in her form-fitting dress, now in a modest white one, but Prompto blushes at her beauty anyway. He doesn’t think he will ever get over how striking she is—he _hopes_ he never does.

“Prompto, Luna. Luna, Prompto,” Noctis gestures between them with an undertone of sarcasm. Luna’s laugh is musical, wind chimes in the breeze.

“Prompto, I—”

“Luna, I—”

They both stop.

“You first—” they speak together, stopping again. This time they both laugh, and the tension in the air evaporates.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Prompto finally says. Luna is shaking her head, already getting to her feet. She takes Prompto’s hands in hers as Noctis watches, approval evident on the prince’s face.

“He said he’ll move in with us,” Noctis announces, too eager to wait.

Luna’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! You two spoke then?”

The pair of men nod, and Prompto is blinded by the joy that shines around the princess like a halo.

“In regard to this morning…it was bold of me. I should have expressed my feelings for you beforehand,” she admits. It’s still a foreign concept to Prompto—that whole ‘feelings for you’ thing, but he tries to accept it gracefully. Seeing the princess blush makes it a little easier, his own fears assuaged. “And of course, if you find the arrangement disagreeable, you can say no at any time, but…”

Seeing the princess struggle for words is a first. The delicate frown Luna makes is like the crinkling of paper, and Prompto nearly misses what she says next as he is caught up in how adorable she looks. 

“Do not feel like you have to say yes on our account—neither of us would blame you. I realize it is a bit unconventional.”

“Are you kidding?” Prompto chuckles, grinning when Noctis and Luna tilt their heads the same degree in opposite directions, giving him their full attention. “Nothing in my life is normal, so why should my relationships be any different? Besides, how’s a guy supposed to say no to a prince _and_ a princess?”

There is movement then, Noctis placing a hand on one of Prompto’s shoulders, Luna resting her head on the other, sandwiching Prompto between them. With a flutter in his chest, Prompto has a fleeting thought, and he chortles quietly to himself.

_Something old, something new_…

As Prompto is enfolded in a tangle of arms, he closes his eyes and breathes deep, three heartbeats melding into one.

[ ](https://ibb.co/jD4sRP2)


	3. Epilogue

“Ooh, I like that one!” Noctis says as he scrolls through the photos on the camera in his hand.

“I love the lighting,” Luna murmurs in agreement, her temple pressed to Prompto’s, one arm resting on his abdomen, fingers intertwined with Noctis’s beside him. Prompto, nestled on the bed between them, sits up a little to look at the screen.

“That one’s my favorite,” Prompto chimes in when Noctis stops on a picture of Luna with the morning sun behind her, framed perfectly by the blue-purple of the sylleblossoms. “That was right before you kissed me,” he comments.

They continue to flip through the takes until they reach the end. “It’s not fair how photogenic you both are. Must be those royal genes,” Prompto sighs.

Noctis pats Prompto’s forearm with his free hand, placating. “It is a burden we must bear,” he jokes, trying to keep a straight face only to start cackling when Prompto glares.

“I, for one, find you quite handsome,” Luna interjects. She takes the camera out of Noctis’s hands and flips it around, pointing the lens back at the three cuddled together. “Smile!” the princess orders, and the two men do so reflexively as she presses down on the button beneath her finger with a _click_. 

“Lemme see,” Prompto says, and he reviews the photo. “Huh. Not too bad.” Unable to resist, he extends his arm, camera still in hand, and takes a few more, the three cycling through traditional poses and silly expressions.

“Alright, let me take a couple.” Noctis holds his hand out and Prompto hands his camera over without question. “Okay, on three,” the prince instructs. He glances over Prompto’s head at Luna and winks.

“One…” Noctis angles his limb in an attempt to get all three of them in the frame. “…two…” Prompto beams, Noctis and Luna’s heads turning inwards. “…three!” There is a high-pitched _mph!_ that accompanies the sound of the shutter opening and closing, Noctis and Luna both pressing their lips to the man’s cheeks at the same time.

Noctis is pulling up the photo before Prompto can find his voice again, three heads huddling against one another.

“The best one yet,” Luna declares.

“Who knew I was so naturally skilled at photography? Better watch out, Prom, or you could be out of a job,” Noctis jests. Prompto takes in the scene, a perfectly balanced composition, his cheeks rosy, grin ridiculously large.

“It’s perfect.” Prompto can only whisper it, and he hopes they know what he really means.

_I love you—both of you._

[ ](https://ibb.co/mDfCqnR)

[](https://ibb.co/zHyw96x)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something old - Prompto and Noctis's friendship  
Something new - Prompto and Luna's relationship  
Something borrowed - Luna and Noctis 'borrowing' Prompto to complete their marriage  
Something blue - sylleblossoms ;)
> 
> Thank you Justice for making me write this OT3! I feel like I could definitely turn this into a longer story;; 
> 
> Feel free to reach out to me on twitter @HardNoctLife and Tumblr @hard-noct-life! I respond to all comments :)
> 
> Colored art is by @JusticeDoesDraw on Twitter!
> 
> Fanart sketch at the end of chapter three is by @mysteriousbean5 ♥️


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